The Garden of Eden
by Ziegander
Summary: I guess this will be the place holder for another lofty aimed crossover story. Its something of a sequel to FF8 but with a few other guest stars from way back in the day. The preface is based on the game Low G Man.


Ok, so here's a story I turned in as a short story last semester for my creative writing workshop class. However, it was originally intended to be the preface to a much larger story... I've never written more for it. I don't know exactly where to go with it. This opening chapter is based upon the NES game Low G Man. If you're not familiar with it, don't worry, I don't leave any of the description out. I hope you enjoy. This is one of my favorite pieces. Remember to review:)

**The Scavenger**

I wake just as I have many mornings of late to the chorus of blasting and screaming that fills the morning air with something like terror. Something like it because it's something I've forgotten how to fear. It's become so much a part of my life that I no longer remember the song of the early bird or the silence of the gentle sunlight that had once shook me unwilling from my dreams. I fling my lead cloak to one side - the blanket that has kept my life a secret for so many months now. The patchwork of stolen dentist's aprons, ER scrubs, and army fatigues falls heavily behind me looking like a cape.

There is the characteristic beeping of one of the machines somewhere to my left side, and if my instincts serve me correctly it is probably less than twenty feet away – well within blasting range. My right hand clenches around the spear I've fashioned from the working parts of those metal heaps, and I pull back the slide on my gun, Killswitch, with my left. Nice bit of modification there, if I must say so myself. EMP rounds to keep the machines down for a few seconds if nothing else. How many are there today? Is it my turn to go?

I adjust the straps on my "moon shoes". That's what I call them at least. Left behind in a destroyed military storehouse, these boots are specially fitted with hydraulic pistons and nano-computers that read the amount of pressure on the bottom of the sole. Every time I'm about to jump the shoes judge my need for lift and fire the pistons to give me just what I need. I adjust the straps to maximum height, close my eyes and take the deep breath before the plunge. Whatever it is out there it's pinpointed me by now. Its annoying beeping tells me that it is preparing to turn my makeshift shelter into dust with me in it.

I move the manhole in the roof away and fly through the opening. My shoes give me an extra fifty feet of lift and I take bearings on my surroundings as I hear the destruction of my old bedroom. Six men, five machines, and a broken community. There are the usual drones, four of them, and a single soldier unit. The one that had me spotted, a drone, is preparing another shot in my direction; the other three are just blasting the hell out of everything. They're about thirty yards out. The drones stand three feet tall hunched over on two legs. Their machine bodies consist of an armless torso with its head containing sensors and its mouth forming the blaster cannon. The blast itself a strange helixed band of charged particles laced with antimatter. Fucking, _antimatter_.

What catches my attention however is the soldier. Standing taller than a man, with gun-arms and two legs, the soldier is taking out the minimal resistance with cold precision. It is however distracted. It keeps going back to the same site to scan, and its taking a strangely long amount of time. That can mean only one of two things: either the piece of shit's taken some flak, or it's receiving data it wasn't built to understand. Soldiers and drones are built to take out living beings and to recognize them through heat and x-ray imagery. Soldiers are more efficient killers and therefore are programmed only to pursue after receiving both signatures. My guess is that the soldier thinks there is something inside, but hasn't gotten a clear read on both signatures.

In the split seconds of my thought processes I have also taken aim with Killswitch. The drone down there will never be as fast as me. I squeeze the trigger and the hammer launches a bullet into the drone's face. A small electro-magnetic pulse detonates within the machine's mechanism jamming it temporarily. Damn thing's blind now. Now, the machines are all also given sonic sensors similar to our ears, so the other drones are aware of my presence as well. I've only got a few seconds now so as I begin my descent I put a few bullets in the others, while receiving a nasty burn scar across my cheek as a drone's blast streaks past my face. As I land I impale the first drone from head to foot and run to the soldier that is still scanning the crumbled building. As far as I can tell it knows I'm here, but isn't very concerned. If a machine can be arrogant these soldiers have puffed up egos to be sure. Killswitch is only going to keep those drones off of me for a few more seconds so I'm going to have to be quick about this. I ram the spearhead into the soldier's back and it swivels at the waist snapping the iron shaft like a twig and flinging the remnants from my hand. A jolt of electric agony enflames my arm from my wrist to my shoulder. Son of a bitch knows I'm a threat now! I plug a few into its outer armor accomplishing nothing and I dive out of the way as it fires about a hundred rounds in reprisal. One of the frozen drones behind me catches roughly a third of the spray and falls quietly to pieces.

My eyes dart from the drones behind me, to the soldier in front of me, and then past it into the wreckage ahead. There is a large black box inside that looks like it could fit a human. It seems the soldier has already put some shots into it and a couple of holes, but that apparently has not appeased it. Whatever's in there must still be alive. Anyway, before I get turned into tomato paste I aim a little lower and fire a couple into its right knee joint. Leaping aside I again dodge a torrent of ammo as the machine topples over itself. I pray to any god that has not yet forsaken this dying earth that my cloak will keep me scrambled enough to get to that box. Of course the tattered old thing is doing its best just to keep me alive. Without it the soldier would have already targeted my head with a single deadly snipe. Bullets pigeonhole the walls to either side while I charge ahead and dive behind the black case. On the other side I see the object of the soldier's desire. There is a series of vents behind which I find a bleeding, but alive, young girl huddled against the back wall. Her eyes scream, "Save me!" even as her jaw quivers in fear. The safe is sealed with a magnetic lock. If Killswitch can get through the box's armor plating then it can jam the interface, but before I can try to save anyone the soldier scrapes itself onto its good leg and I hear the drones begin to move closer.

I wish I could have saved this for later, but it looks like I have no choice. Two weeks ago I stumbled through another wasteland like this one. The machines had already gone - presumably here - but they left me enough to get the picture. As I sifted through the destruction I found some ammunition, a part for my spear and a chaff grenade. Lovely little toys chaff grenades. They explode filling the air with a confetti of reflectors that scramble any kind of imagery sensors. This one though has an exciting bonus feature: it has a secondary concussion device that knocks out sonic sensors. I took it with the idea to save it for god-knows-what, but now it looks like I'll have to use it. I press and hold the button on top of it and tear it free from my belt. The girl takes notice - her eyes darting from my hand to my face with desperation. I tap my earlobe and she takes cover. After I throw the thing outside I get down and follow suit. The explosion - still painfully loud through the flesh of my hands - goes off followed by a cacophony of beeps and signals telling me that my toy has done its job. Oh well, at least I know how the thing worked. With the right parts I could probably make some of my own.

I check my gun. Four bullets left in this clip with another full one at my side. Before I can convince myself that this is an entirely bad idea I launch myself at the reeling soldier unit ahead. I place Killswitch's barrel over top of the hole in the soldiers back as its beeps almost seem to turn into pleadings. Trying my best to aim upward toward the central processors I fire all of my remaining ammunition. The last raspy whirrs of the internal fans remind me of the movies I used to watch and the dying man's last raspy breath.

I look around for my broken spear and hope that the head isn't shattered. I don't really want to waste anymore bullets on those stupid drones out there if I don't have to. As I spot the half spear lying at the foot of the crushed structure just to my right, the roar of a drone's blast deafens me for a moment. It misses, but not by much. The chaff is helping, but only just enough. No matter. The remnant of my weapon is enough to finish the job on these two toaster ovens.

I take another flying leap into the air and my heavy cloak furls itself about. The other fires its charged blast but misses by almost two full feet. With the spear as short as it is I nearly land before I can thrust it through the armored head of the first drone. Unluckily for me the other drone is charging another blast. At this range it isn't going to miss me, and so I can only hope it hasn't had time to maintain any antimatter.

Annihilation. At this range I would be torn apart by the monumental explosion as antimatter and matter turn each other into pure energies. Hence the common term "blast" used to describe the drone's primary weapon. I leap back with as much force as my shoes can afford and hurl the spear into the drone's mouth. The resulting explosion is a large one, but not as large as a full blast explosion. The spear disrupts the helix sequence and tosses aside the powerful magnetic fields required to maintain the antimatter effectively vaporizing the spear and much of the drone's working parts. I feel like I've been tossed out of a moving train car as the shockwave crashes into me.

I lie on the gravelly terrain a moment with the taste of blood beginning to creep into my mouth. A couple of my ribs feel like they might be broken and my left shoulder is dislocated. Awake ten minutes and I'm already fucked. Doesn't surprise me. I stand shakily to my feet and find out the hard way that my left leg doesn't want a lot of weight on it. So after I get up a second time I limp back to the black box and the little girl. The chaff is falling to the ground - a slow snowfall of big silver flakes.

I release the spent clip from the handle of Killswitch and replace it with the one on my belt. Ought to last me a few more days. Temporarily forgetting the importance of subtlety and safety, I put the gun right up to the lock and pull the trigger. Some metal parts fly in random directions and the girl shrieks as one grazes her arm cutting her a little.

"Sorry," I say dully as I swing the door open.

The girl doesn't move for a second and then she stands up filling only about half of the safe's interior. Her legs seem like she hasn't used them in a week. Then without warning she flies at me and wraps her arms around my bad leg.

"Arggh!" I groan and we crash to the ground awkwardly.

"Sorry," she says dully.

Lying on the ground I notice the wounds on her back. The girl has a hole bored through the fatty part of her hip and bullet lodged in her right shoulder blade.

"You're hurt," I stupidly state the obvious.

She recoils letting go of me in the process. I stare at her for a moment. She seems to have aged so much for a child of her years. Too much. I get back on my feet and turn to leave.

"I'm heading to Garden City. Its about eighty miles north of here," I crane my head over to look at her, "Is there any food left around here?"

She shrugs her shoulders.

"Will you take me with you?" she asks expressionless.

I don't say anything for a minute and pull back the slide on Killswitch until it clicks the hammer into place. I was never much good at this talking business.

"That was the plan. You need a doctor, and I need some sleep. You're taking first watch tonight."

She stares blankly at me for just a second and then recovers herself.

"Thank you."

I hobble out onto the cracked landscape and start to sift through the wreckage, just as I always do. The ribs on my left side howl in pain as I crouch on the ground. My right hand wraps around a heavy steel cord that was probably support for one of the toppled buildings and my ears detect the girl's light footsteps behind me.

"Its quiet now," she points out.

I hadn't even noticed yet myself. There was screaming when I woke up. I assume she must have been among the terrified.

"What happened here?"

She flashes me a strange look perhaps like I shouldn't have asked and moves in front of me. She walks off ahead moving each foot in front of the other with deliberation.

"Where are you going? We need supplies before we head out," I call to her.

"This way," she says continuing forward, "There used to be a deli this way."

She says used to be as if it hadn't been for years. I'm sure the deli is just another smoldering pile of concrete or brick scattered and broken to bits by the machines probably little more than a few hours ago. Used to be... How long has it been since my home was hit? Maybe a year already. And you can bet that there was more than just a few drones and a soldier. It seems so far off in the past now. Like something from a dream. Something that was never real to begin with. I guess war does that to people.

"You know where you're going right?" I raise my voice so the girl can hear.

She stops walking, but doesn't look back.

"You aren't coming with me?" her voice falters betraying her demeanor.

"I need to find parts. Anything I can use to make weapons. Anything I can salvage to take these damn things out before they get me."

I hear her turn to face me. In the dead silence I feel her eyes on the back of my head and I stop what I'm doing. Get tough kid. Get mad. Get ready for the next time you face the machines. Her foot slides heavily through the loose stone making a pouting gesture so I can hear it. Learn what it feels like to be on your own. You can't rely on me. I hear her start off again. She stomps the ground with her first few steps just in case I didn't get her last message, and I smirk a little bit. She's an innocent, I realize. I remember being innocent at her age. Once we grow older I think we all wish we could go back, but we all know that we can't. Once innocence is lost, it's lost.

I shake my thoughts away and move over to the soldier. Something is definitely broken in my chest. I need a doctor probably as much as she does. We'll make it though. Crawling up to the scrapped machine I think of the last time I saw one. The only ones I've ever seen had been mutilated with artillery and much of their circuitry totally fried. If only I had a gear lab that I could take one of these things to. I could learn a lot from their weapon systems. Wishful thinking all that. I haven't got the luxury of time to perform an autopsy on a robot.

As I'm looking around it doesn't take long for me to find random pieces of people torn off of their bodies as their homes were annihilated. I do my best to cover them over with dust and cement fragments even though I'm sure the girl will see her share on her way to the deli. You can never imagine the force of the explosions that ripped this city apart. Probably the product of less than ten blasts. Hell, if my cloak alone had been caught by a drone's blast I would have been vaporized. The center of contact, the zero point, only the size of a bullet hole, creates an amount of force powerful enough to bring a city block to ruin.

I find a few adequate parts for a replacement spear and I gather them all into a piece of sackcloth. I'll work on it later. I'm tired of looking around and my stomach is complaining boisterously. It's been two days now without a thing to eat, and it's starting to catch up with me. So, I stagger to my feet with excruciating effort, and slink off after the girl. I follow her footsteps for a few minutes without any sign and I begin to wonder where she's gone.

"Hello?"

No answer. She may have just run off. I can't say that I'd blame her. Her entire world was just destroyed. What does she have left to live for? I ask myself the same question every goddamn day. I groan and head back – back toward the city. I begin to wonder if the machines have made it there already. Garden's defenses are well maintained, but then again so were the defenses back home. What if Garden City has already been taken by the machines? They're already this close, what's another eighty miles to the bastards? My thoughts are broken again by the sound of something hitting the ground behind me with a soft thud. I spin around so fast I can feel one of my ribs float around that shouldn't be moving. I grind my teeth together to keep myself from crying out and I see the little girl lying on the ground breathing heavily. I shuffle over to her as fast as the pain allows.

"I found some food," she manages through her labored breaths.

"You need to hold on just a while longer, kid. You'll be alright," I don't know whether I'm lying or not, but it seems like the only thing to say.

She smiles and I know she's giving up now.

"You remind me of my brother. He would always tell me to hold on when I was sick. You'll be alright he told me, and I always was."

"Well, he was right," I say to her, "You're going to be okay. We'll be in Garden City in a couple days, and –"

She cuts me off, "By then I'll already be dead."

"No…" I try to be soothing, "it isn't that bad. Really. You can be strong for another couple of days can't you?"

She shakes her head and I can see that she's been as strong as she can. The bullet passed through her kidney and probably brought with it metal shavings from the safe box. She'd get an infection in a few hours; if it hasn't already set in. The bleeding's only gotten worse since the last time I saw her and she's very pale now. Shit, why I am I being so effected by this? I haven't known this girl but a few minutes. Hell, I don't even know her name! She seems so aged. Her eyes seem so distant. All of a sudden tears begin to stream steadily down her face, and an uncomfortable warmth rushes into mine. My temples start to throb.

"You'd have liked him," she speaks at last, "He was strong. He fought them too. He didn't have anything like you have, but he fought them anyway. He fought them..."

She trails off. She closes her eyes and takes in a deep breath before sighing it out. I put the back of my hand to her forehead. She's so cold. My throat starts to feel swollen and my eyes itchy. The feeling is unlike anything I've felt for so long.

"You would have ... liked him," she repeats herself ever so softly.

Her body goes still. Her breathing becomes whispers in and out her nostrils. Slowly the whispering fades into nothing until at last there isn't a sound in the air. Tears burn and blur my vision and I scream in rage and agony ignoring the pain filling my torso. I wanted her to live.

After I give the girl a proper burial I move on. I should make it to Garden in two days time. The only thing that matters until then is survival. I've made it this far. In a few hours I'll make camp and try to make myself another weapon. Who knows what I might need it for? I pull the lead hood of my cloak over my head and look to the dark, smog distorted skies ahead. I try to keep my thoughts from drifting too much, but she comes back. I wanted her to live, dammit! I wouldn't have thought it would matter to me this much, but I wanted her to live. I think that if I had saved her, I would have felt like I had saved something from my past. Some part of home that I had lost. She was like a bridge between this world and that dream I had forgotten, but now all ties have been severed. It is a more painful experience than I would have predicted.


End file.
